Of Mice and Men
by Scrunchy
Summary: I didn't even acknowledge him at first. Why should I have? He was just going to die anyway, another passing face that would be gone just as quickly as he had come. I might have glanced at him, and that's how I noticed, along with my weekly battle report, that he was still there. Four battles later, and the Sniper was still around.


I didn't even acknowledge him at first.

Why should I have? He was just going to die anyway, another passing face that would be gone just as quickly as he had come. I might have _glanced _at him, and that's how I noticed, along with my weekly battle report, that he was still there. Four battles later, and the Sniper was still around.

I shrugged it off, spoke a few words to him perhaps, but that was all. He was going to make a mistake eventually, and I wasn't going to make friends with anyone in this job.

Two battles later, we lost. I had secluded myself into a nook to wait out my team's massacre via the enemy. I was fairly close to our resupply room—the other team was rarely energetic enough to run all the way back over here to check for survivors—and the Sniper seemed to have the same tactic. He turned the corner, in a half crouch as if he were sneaking through a forest, or his native bush. Sneakers pounded the hallway, and I winced, withdrawing further into my alcove. Though I had no attachments to him, I still didn't want to watch the little brat club him to death with his rotting, fetid fish.

Warmth pressed against me and I looked up and back irritably at the man who had taken it upon himself to squeeze into _my_ hiding place. Who did he think he was? Now we would _both_ be caught.

"Shhhh…" he breathed, as if he knew that I was itching to say something. I just huffed and twisted slightly so that he was no longer half at my back. We might be teammates, but I don't let _anyone_ behind me. It's a matter of principle.

The sneakers squeaked relentlessly down the hallway, and Sniper curled his arms in so that the dark brown of his vest, hat and pants would adapt to the shadows and provide a decent camouflage from any adrenaline-rushing eyes that might peek down our little slot. When this place was still an office building, it was likely a place to store cleaning supplies, out of the way and where they wouldn't take up much space at all. I saw past the man's shoulder, the Scout glanced down the narrow opening, perhaps two feet in width and short enough that Sniper's hat almost touched the ceiling. I held my breath and quelled the urge to shrink down. Any movement at this point would give us away.

He snorted, the moment over in a second, though I felt like he stared right at us for forever. He cursed and slammed his bat into the wall as he moved on, and the metal clanked against tile as he drug it behind him, slowly walking his way back to his own base.

I sagged as soon as the danger was over. My heart was beating fast, and I'd broken into a sweat.

"Crikey, that was close." He grinned at me, and I felt an immediate stab of resentment for the Australian.

"Get out." I told him, pushing at his chest and at least making him take a step back. "Next time you need a place to hide, do _not_ choose mine." I gave him a glare and, as he backed out of my space, stepped forward and slipped out as soon as possible. I straightened my suit and turned to return to the supply room with a huff.

"Bloody… Hey, hold up." The Sniper followed me in, and I ignored him, removing my weapons and placing them in my designated locker. I removed the bullets from my revolver and placed it in its case, my cloaking device, sapper, and disguise kit went in as well. I removed and repacked the cigarettes in my personal cigarette holder, silently ignoring the man behind me. He hadn't moved since he last spoke to me, and I was beginning to get ansty, because I could feel him _directly behind me_.

"_What_?" I finally asked, whirling around and clicking my knife into view. It caught against his vest, right over his heart and I narrowed my eyes, daring him to give me a reason.

"Hey now…" he took a careful step back, slowly and with a gentle lilt to his voice, like I was somehow a scared, pathetic little animal.

"Stay away from me. Do your job, and die like all the rest." I told him, huffing and repocketing my knife before turning to exit through the back door, which was now unlocked.

It didn't strike me until later on that it was the most vocal I'd ever heard the man. If he wasn't taunting our enemies, of course.

He didn't give up. A traumatized Scout was the only teammate we had left after the next battle, though we had won. Half way through the battle, he returned to the respawn room, bloody and looking considerably better than half-dead. He didn't leave again, though. Just laid there and cried about how he wanted to see his mother again.

Which, of course, left me to complete the mission. We only needed one more briefcase, and the Engineer's sentry was still whirring away in our intelligence room. Battered, sparking, but still there. The Engineer was slumped over on his dispenser behind it.

They still had a Heavy, but he didn't have his Medic anymore, and all the health kits scattered around our base had already been picked up. Unless he wanted to destroy the sentry, then go back to his base and heal and then attempt to make the run, he wouldn't make it. And while he held the intelligence, we would know exactly where he was.

Their Soldier and Demoman were out of commission. Any other class besides their Spy would more than likely die before they could reach the intel. Until one of them decided to sacrifice themselves, we were at a stalemate.

Unless I went and got the last briefcase.

_God, I really have to do everything myself._ I thought sourly, smoking a quick cigarette in the shadow of some stacked crates.

I glanced up at the upper level, to the wide windows that were all cracked open for easy access by _him_.

I reluctantly returned to our base and mounted the stairs. The stench of blood told me that someone had died before I'd even entered the room. I won't lie—my heart sped at the thought that he might have finally died. I hurried into the room, covering the soles of my shoes in the enemy Spy's blood before I'd even realized he was still there, perched on a crate and glancing up over the sill of the window.

"Watch your step—" he'd started to say, but when he turned and saw my shoes already soiled, he shrugged. When his eyes flicked up to my face and then away, I knew that I'd been caught caring.

"How did you know I was not an enemy?" I asked, carefully choosing my steps the rest of the way to lean against the wall beside him. The other Sniper was still active, so I crouched and lit another cigarette, just as my nerves started to jingle again.

"Because I know where the other two blokes are that can move as quiet as you. 'N' one of 'em isn't going anywhere." He hiked his thumb back at my dead counterpart and I snorted softly.

"Well then." I agreed before lapsing into silence.

"We the only ones left?" He asked after a long moment.

"_Oui_… well… the Scout is indisposed." I waved my cigarette with a huff. "He would not be of any use anyway… besides moving the intelligence closer so that I might capture it myself."

"Hmm…" He peeked over the sill and licked his lips before grabbing his rifle and holding it away from him as he studied something. He brought it up and fired in one motion.

"Let's go, then." He announced, standing from his crate and offering me his hand. I stared at it and then looked up at him. "Well?"

" 'Well?' _What_?" I asked, wrinkling my nose at his hand and standing myself. I was tired from running around the bases all day, the sun had begun its descent an hour ago, and there was not much time left before we would be left in the dark. At least then I could kill the enemy in their sleep.

Or they would come find me.

"Let's go get that last bloody briefcase." He started walking out of the room, and I followed, curious.

"How, exactly, are we going to do this?" I asked, careful to hop over the pool of stagnant blood.

He didn't answer me the entire walk back to the resupply room, and I quickly became cross with him. He stopped to check on the mewling Scout, while I stayed just inside the door, out of range of any snooping enemies, and far enough away from the deranged gunman that his crazy might not rub off on me. Honestly, what was he going to do? Go into the other base with his little sub machine gun and start shooting? Yes, that would be effective.

When he pulled out a jar of... _something_ from his locker, a larger knife, an unstrung bow and quiver, I didn't quite know what to do with myself.

I'd never seen a Sniper use one of those things in combat and live.

Naturally, I started laughing.

"Oh—oh yes. We'll be home free." I snorted between chortles.

"Yep." He winked at me and slung the bow across his back. The jar disappeared into the pouch on his hip, and the larger knife took the place of the Kukri on his back, its sheath was nearly a time and a half bigger.

"_Mon dieu_, we're dead." I grimaced and turned to walk out.

"Hey, hold on." He reached out to grab my shoulder, and I whirled, knocking it away with an elbow to his joint as my other arm came up to wrap around and lock it in place, straining the shoulder in a threat that I might pop it out of place. I would. I _would _pop it out of place.

"Bloody—"

"Listen, Bushman. I don't _care_ about you. I care about surviving this place. That's it. If I die, I die because of me. I don't _need_ someone to watch my back and help me out."

"Then what were you doing up there?" He asked pointedly, looking at me over those stupid shades and revealing his clear, blue-grey eyes.

"I was… just checking to see if you were alive." I stammered, thrown off by his perception and, as if to make my point, I wrenched my arm up again, making him wince in pain. Just a little more pressure and it would dislocate.

"Okay, okay, so you don't need me. I still want to help. Just bloody listen to me, and we'll both get out of this alive." His voice was quiet, like he was talking to a scared mouse again.

I gritted my teeth and eased the pressure.

It would be harder to survive on my own. It really would.

"What is it?"

:::::

We stole across the land between the bases just as the sun was setting. The lights inside flickered, and I cloaked moments before entering the door. I paused, allowed myself to recharge while his shoulder brushed mine, and then whispered softly, "now."

I took four steps before he began following me, matching my stride and keeping a careful eye and ear out for anything I might miss. I saw the Heavy around the corner, his barrel whirring and his back in a corner. If anything stepped into his line of sight, he would shred it to pieces.

I tapped my foot twice, and felt Sniper freeze behind me. After my cloak had recharged, I slipped around the corner and hugged the wall all the way to him. I held my breath as I slipped past him and into the corner. His stance had left a gap large enough for me to carefully step over his balancing leg and duck under his massive shoulder. I uncloaked, and the sound was obscured by the whirr of his gun, which stopped as the man fell to the ground in front of me, a small yet deep and fatal wound marring the back of his vest.

Sniper was still waiting, still as a statue, when I came back around the corner. I cleared my throat, and he looked right at me. "The Heavy is down." I whispered, and he nodded before motioning for me to lead on.

I did, and their Pyro was waiting for us. Its flames caught us both. I wasn't going down without a fight, though. I stepped to the side, slipped my knife through the thick rubber suit, and killed whatever it was inside with a stab in the back.

Glass broke, and I was no longer on fire. I smelled simply _awful_, though.

"_What on earth is this, bushman_?" I hissed, dripping with what was no doubt the mystery substance that he'd put in his pouch. It smelled like urine.

"Jarate." He said before motioning for me to shut up and get going. I winced and moved gingerly, feeling the surface burns beginning to irritate my skin. At least the fire hadn't hurt me too badly.

I still shot a glare at the man before I cloaked again.

He chuckled softly behind me, and I felt my stomach twist at the sound. It was wonderfully deep and rough.

We stopped at a small medkit and shared the pills inside. There was an odd number, and he let me keep the extra.

"How many of them are left?" I asked, letting the kindness flow off my back and popping the handful of quick-healing drugs in my mouth.

"Well, Medic's down, courtesy of you." He'd seen that? "Demoman went to Heavy before he got Sniped. You just got the Heavy and Pyro. I took care of the Soldier and Sniper…" I remembered the quick shot he'd taken before we'd left his perch. My legs weakened at the possibility that he might have that much skill. How else would he have survived this long?

"So, the—"

I was interrupted by a high, Bostonian voice behind me, and Sniper drew back his arrow and shot the boy, pinning him to the wall behind him by his stomach. I kicked his gun out of his hand just as he attempted to aim at us, and Sniper relieved him of his bat and pistol.

"Oh shitshitshitshitshi—"

"Oh, shutup." Sniper snarled at him, and the boy gave him a rude gesture.

"Let's go, Spy." Sniper turned back to me and nodded down the corridor that lead to the intelligence room.

"Hey, Engie, they're—" I shot him in the head and calmly followed Sniper.

"Couldn't have just taken the mic off him?"

"No. I don't pity the enemy, they would not do the same to me." I tell him and cloak again, effectively ending the conversation.

I cannot kill the Engineer without getting shot by his sentry, and I cannot sap his sentry without getting clocked in the head by the Engineer. I had left Sniper several yards behind me, and returned to him quickly to come up with a plan.

"Well, I could shoot him before he kills you." He mentioned, scratching his head.

"I do not believe it's possible for you to have the—"

"Listen, Spy. If you have a better idea, that's fine. I'd love to hear it." He looked tired and his nerves were visibly shaken. I remembered the attitude he always had and how much I'd despised it. That it was a farce had never crossed my mind.

We were both good at our jobs, excellent strategists and over qualified for our positions. I was pushing him to the edge of his patience.

I was going to have to trust him and his skill.

"… alright. He'll be on his guard, though, so you will have to wait a while… until he relaxes again and doesn't think we're coming 'til morning."

"So… a few hours." He nodded and stretched, given energy by my compliance.

"Yes." I nodded and sighed before cloaking again and stepping toward the door without another word.

It worked perfectly.

The Engineer dropped his guard after standing around for two hours and crouched down next to his Sentry, his back to my corner. I uncloaked, and he didn't register the sound in time. Just as he got to his feet, I slapped a Sapper on his Sentry and turned with gritted teeth to witness an arrow pin the Engineer to the wall through his left eye. His wrench slipped to the floor from his limply swinging hand.

My knees failed me, and hid the smooth concrete floor.

We'd done it.

"So, how about a beer?" Sniper asked, and when I looked up, he was offering his hand to me.

I took it, and allowed him to pull me to my feet. "I would prefer dinner." I admitted, smiling for perhaps the first time at him.

"Well, grab the loot and let's get going."

He finally let my hand drop as I turned away to collect the briefcase and we walked silent, side by side back to the base.

We were told to return to the town nearest us and await instructions.

I sat in the passenger seat of his van, silently watching the lights get closer and trembling with excitement.

Never, in my years as a Spy, had I met another man so good at his work. Quick witted with amazing aim, he was perfect.

He _is_ perfect.

We showered in our hotel rooms that night (paid for by the company, of course), and when I went to his room after to see if there was a certain place he preferred for dinner, he answered the door in only a towel.

I'm not sure who initiated it, but I'm sure it didn't matter. It had been building between us ever since that first discussion in the resupply room.

And it was the best fuck I'd ever had.

It was a desperate tumble for power, dominance and release. My shirt was ripped and we never found out where he threw my belt. A lot of shoving, pulling, and needy frustration was involved.

We both had been holding back for far too long.

He prepared himself and rode me, his eyes locked on my bare face. My mask hadn't been discarded in years, but he'd ripped it off when he felt the need to touch me.

I didn't stop him.

Afterwards, we sprawled together in a tangle of limbs, fluids and tender, almost reverent kisses.

My stomach growled, and he offered to order in, but I was too tired to allow him to leave me. Instead, I curled around him and tucked my face against his neck.

It was the best sleep I'd had in at least a decade.

Now, I sleep well every night, knowing that he's going to be there when I wake and I'll still be alive. He takes the same comfort in me, though occasionally he wakes me with nightmares and I have to pet him back into restfulness.

We've won almost every battle since then. We don't worry about each other because we know that the other will be safe, that they can take care of themselves. We only need to watch out for each other after hours.

The battle has been going for three days. Our Engineer is skilled, and I visit him often to get and give progress reports. He stays sharp, but the enemy Spy is still alive, so I'm constantly on edge. I haven't seen Sniper in these days, and I haven't slept either. There are pills in the resupply room to help with alertness, and the Engineer's dispenser helps a little as well.

I cloak when I hear boots in the hall.

My Sniper strides into the intel room, his rifle over his shoulder and a cigarette in his mouth.

"Heard anything from Spy?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing around the room. Finding the intel untouched, he nods and looks back at Engineer.

"Yeah, he was just here." Engineer glances around and shrugs. "Spooks, huh?"

Sniper laughs at my expense and nods. "Too bloody right." He agrees before turning and walking back out. I follow him silently, enjoying the way his jeans cling to his legs and ass and the broadness of his shoulders beneath his vest.

"You were looking for me?" I whisper, right next to his ear. He whips around and my cloak falls as he elbows me in the stomach. "_Merde_!" I double over, and he looks amused when I finally get a chance to look up at him.

"Shouldn't have spooked me." He smirks at his wordplay, and I smile back before wrapping my arms around his neck and breathing in—cigarette smoke. Spicy, European, not his brand.

"No…" My heart plummets to my stomach, and I feel a prick at my back, a lancing pain.

"_Bonsoir_…" He chuckles.

Then, I feel nothing.


End file.
